The Alley Revised
by BloodyDaylight
Summary: Hey this is the alley again, revised.. and updated :P please do comment on it.. IT WAS NOT MY WORK MY BEST FRIEND DID IT AND I AM UPLOADING IT.. heheh just making sure you know


**Hey guyss!**

**This is my best friends work and she doesn't have an account on Fanfiction.. so i am uploading it for her.. do post comments and i would be sure to pass it on. thanks a bunch!!! **

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**The Alley **

It's raining and you walk into an alley, what do you see? A wooden fence lining the two parallel edges, mostly likely dry unless the soft droplets of the clear liquid have landed and are now sliding down the posts of wood. You would also see the puddles gathering in the crevasses and concave half circles below, producing warped reflections of the beautifully horrific full moon above. Your curious mind, however, gets the better of you and you trudge over to one of the small pools and look within it, casting the arrays of white light on to your own face and seeing your reflection no matter how warped it may be with every drop that creates new ripples. You gently pull the hand you had previously buried into your pocket out and decide to dip it into the cool, flowing mass you now look in to. You stare in amazed horror at the way the light refracts your image and your surroundings. Then suddenly, ever so suddenly, something pounces at you from behind. Without thinking, you struggle with them, trying to remember any tae kwon do, ju jitsu, or plain self defense you may or may not have learned. As you feel someone's arms wrap tightly around your waist, a crisp scream rushes passed your lips and gently floats into the night air, mingling with the molecules but failing to disguise itself as the nitrogen and oxygen. You feel your head bang against one of the wooden posts and feel a small amount of liquid trickle down the back of your neck, wondering if it's blood or rain. And slowly, ever so slowly, the night air and the shadows take refuge on your skin and pull you into a dark abyss of their own. Your eyelids grow heavy, preventing you from looking into your killer's eyes. You slip away, feel your balance leave your body and let your back slide down to let you slump against the posts as the shadows take you. You expect to open your eyes and see the dim, blue, everlasting curtain above. To feel the soft blanket of grass weave itself between your toes and fingers. To smell the sweet smell of fresh water coating ever bit of your surroundings. And to taste the light air on the tip of your tongue but you don't. Instead, you see nothing but darkness. Maybe your eyes have not yet given the willingness to open. You smell nothing but the rustic tinge of blood all around you. You hear nothing but the subtle taps of footsteps from all around you. You taste nothing but the metallic and salty after taste of blood. What you feel, however, is a different story. Pain surges throughout your body. So, I'm not dead would probably be the first thing you would think. You're right, though. You aren't dead. You attempt to pin point the site of the pain but you find it to be extremely difficult. There are huge amounts of pain in your arms, legs, chest, neck, shoulders. It makes its way throughout your body quietly, smugly, disguising itself as blunt force on your entire body. You slowly, but quickly, search your body with your hands and find a deep cut in your left side. You rest your right hand on this cut then gently, as gently as humanly possible, allow your fingers to slide in. When you pull them out, after enduring endless moments of pain, you find that your fingers are entirely covered in your blood, meaning that the cut is more than an inch in depth. You try to move but are held back by the newest rush of pain that quickly sweeps over you. A raspy whisper of a scream slips past your lips and within moments, a man stands before you, smirking. You don't recognize him. Hell, you don't even remember seeing him. But there's something about this man that you can't shake from your skin.

"Hello, my dear." His cold fingers brush against your chin and jaw, sending newer chills through your body. "I'm sorry for causing you pain." A smirk plays at the corner of his lips as his fingers urge you to tilt your head back, ever so slightly, making you wince with a new arousal of pain. Your teeth clench but you meet your soon-to-be murderer's eyes without a fight.

"What the hell do you want from me?" you feel yourself wince as you speak and suddenly a light trace of blood mingles with your saliva. The man in front of you cups your face into his supercilious hands.

"I don't want attitude, that's something I definitely do not want. Understand?" he speaks through clenched teeth, squeezing your face, allowing more blood to seep through whatever wound you've now encountered. "All I ask for is a little..." his lips touch your neck, lightly, "...Cooperation."

His lips touch your neck repeatedly, causing you to shiver and quake with both fear and pleasure, a deadly combination. His hands gently, yet firmly, grasp your face as he twists and turns it, compelling you to bite your lip just to hold yourself back from screaming. "Yes... that's right... bite your beautiful lips." You bite harder, listening to him, intently. "Ah, no, not too hard. You'll draw blood. I'm sure you wouldn't want to draw more blood then you already have." He forcefully places a hand over the wound on your side, pressing, pushing you to your limits as a crisp scream runs past your lips. You hear him chuckle under his breath.

"You... never answered... my question..." your voice comes out as more of a pant rather than a whimsical, flowing sentence. You feel your lips creep into a smirk as your eyes meet your desperado's. His hands fall to sit on either side of your body with what seems to look like an incredible amount of self control.

"I wanted to see you, Saki." His head hangs in front of you "I didn't want to hurt you, though." He looks at you, his eyes full of seemingly unfeigned remorse. You look at him, thinking. Saki? How does he know my nick name? There was only one person in the world that knew... how could it be... NO!

"...Sasuke?" your panting, your fear grows, making you quiver. You ignore the pain, though, as you reach out to brush his cheek. As the palm of your hand meets his cheek, you feel his face tilt into it, slightly. Then, without warning, he lifts his hand and you feel a sharp object plunge into the depths of your skin, your heart. With that, your world ends.


End file.
